Goin' home..............

We are nearing the end of this particular stroll.  Ahead, the public path leading from forest to house is about to be negotiated.

Negotiated?  Well yes, it can be quite a challenge sometimes, particularly if someone has discarded the remains of a takeaway en route!  

You will possibly be aware that the boy Bing is a hound of French origin – hound being the important bit!  Here we are then starting to trundle down the slope, I have the lad on a shortened lead – control will be required should a sudden scent waft up the lads ever searching hooter!

A few paces down we pause, to allow a Mother and her pushchair to pass. The lad sits obediently, thus receiving an ‘ah, isn’t he good’ from the mum.  This is a reasonably true statement, but dare I observe, there are moments when ‘nature’ takes over and his tracking instincts snap in.

A clear path now beckons, and off we go.  This path has, as my breath gets shorter, got steeper and, trundling downhill needs to be negotiated with a steady stride, rather than the sort of speed produced by a team of rabid huskies!

Ahead, I spot a suspicious package, and already ‘the nose’ is in contact with its ‘quarry!’

‘Steady Bing, that’s not one to be noshed,’

‘Cor guv, it smells luvvverly!.’

‘That it might, young fruit, but frankly the leftovers of what looks like a dodgy tandoori is not on the menu I’m afraid.’

‘Shiver me whiskers guv, can’t a chap just give it a nosing?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t Bing.’

‘Seems a tad harsh old poop?’

‘Sometimes one has to put one’s foot down and so fourth.’

‘And such like?’

‘Yes and such like.’

Negotiations, I fear...are about to break out.

‘Well, what about if I very carefully carry it back to our bin guv?’

‘M’mm, nice try, but I think I’ll deal with it if I may.’

‘Guv, taken all in all, by and large and everything else into account, including ‘ah isn’t he good’ from the lady….’

‘Yeeees?’

‘How about a small reward for the lad whose tum is rumbling in sympathy with his hooter?’

‘That seems reasonable.’

‘Cough up a goody guv!’

I pick up the takeaway, and the lad takes away the proffered reward.  We continue our way home. 

Why am I left thinking that the lad wouldn’t have scoffed this particular delight of Asia anyway?

　

‘Bit hot guv. It’s a flaming vindaloo!!’